


"L" is for the way you look (at me)

by stilesinwonderland (itsabravenewworld)



Series: The L.O.V.E series [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Single Parent Derek, Teacher Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsabravenewworld/pseuds/stilesinwonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two raps on his classroom door out of nowhere, and Stiles looks at his watch, confused. He doesn’t have any more appointments scheduled, because it’s almost nine PM. The door creaks open, slowly, because Stiles hasn’t responded to the knock, and in steps a man that Stiles will gladly make more room for.</p><p>Or, the one in which Stiles is a kindergarten teacher, and Derek is a single dad</p>
            </blockquote>





	"L" is for the way you look (at me)

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on tumblr-- my URL is obriensnipples! You can watch me ramble about writing adventures

Stiles is organizing his work on his desk, shuffling them into a neat pile so he can finally lock his room and head home. It’s been a long day filled with both his AM and PM classes, then parents coming in to hear about their child’s progress in his kindergarten class, and Stiles is bone-tired. Kids are easy. But parents, parents are a whole different ballgame. They’re so pushy eighty percent of the time, and it’s exhausting to deal with them for five hours.

There are two raps on his classroom door out of nowhere, and Stiles looks at his watch, confused. He doesn’t have any more appointments scheduled, because it’s almost nine PM. The door creaks open, slowly, because Stiles hasn’t responded to the knock, and in steps a man that Stiles will gladly make more room for. He’s got a suit on, wrinkled from a day as long as Stiles’s, probably. He has 5 o’clock shadow, halfway grown into stubble, and his tie is just slightly undone.

Stiles adjusts himself in his spinning chair (that he _loves--_ and the kids love it too, because it’s fun to roll around on) and says, “Hello?” in confusion. His voice crack a little, and the guy gives him a sort-of apologetic look. He looks really serious, though, even with a tired expression, and eyebrows slanted in over his green eyes.

“Hello, Mr. Stilinski?” the guy says, in a surprisingly gentle voice, that Stiles wouldn’t expect from someone looking like him. Stiles nods. “ I’m Derek Hale. Lea’s father?” Derek says, when Stiles doesn’t answer straight away. Stiles shakes his head quickly and rises to shake his hand, laughing when Derek nearly trips over a toy on his way over. He can see the resemblance; Lea always has a permanent serious-face just like Mr. Hale and the same dark eyebrows. But she has dark brown hair instead of the thick black hair Derek has.

Derek’s grip is steady and warm in his, and Stiles smiles. “Hello! It’s nice to finally meet you.” Stiles invites him to take a chair and sits back down in his own seat, already shuffling through Lea Hale’s file.

“I’m sorry to come so late, I got held up at work,” Derek explains, and he shrugs off his suit-jacket, hangs it over the back of his chest. Stiles ogles at him because, _biceps,_ and _pecs._ He clears his throat awkwardly as Derek settles into his chair and crosses one well tailored pant leg over the other.

“Oh, that’s quite alright! I’m sorry Mrs. Hale couldn’t make it.” Stiles says, grabbing his large file-bin from next to his desk and throwing it onto his desk.

Derek’s expression darkens. “There’s no Mrs. Hale. I’m not married.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, feels himself flush. He flails his hands a little, and sputters, “I-- I’m sorry, that is none of my business, at _all.”_

Derek chuckles, though it’s a tired one, and scratches at his ridiculously attractive stubble. “That’s alright. I’m actually Lea’s uncle.”

Stiles stares. “Oh, well,” he starts, ready to change the subject, but he can’t deny that he’s really dangerously curious.  He lays his palms against the metal of his desk (kindergarten teachers unfortunately don’t get the cool wooden ones, much to his dismay) and waits for Derek to share if he feels like it.

“Her mother died last year, so now I’m Lea’s legal guardian.” And whoa, Stiles hadn’t been expecting that.

Derek swallows, and Stiles knows how important sharing something like that is, so he nods. “I had no idea. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“That’s okay.” Derek looks ready to switch subjects, and Stiles finally finds Lea’s file in his large bin, pulling it out. It provides him with the perfect transition, and he flaps the file in the air.

“Well then,” Stiles coughs, trying to diffuse the tension. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Derek tilts his chin out, and Stiles realizes he’s been waiting for him to talk. “Right! Well, Lea is a wonderful student. She always participates in the activities, and shows a lot of promise in math skills. Her writing is very good as well.” Stiles shows Derek some of Lea’s worksheets, and his heart feels warm when the man’s mouth twitches up in pride. Because _this_ , even if it’s exhausting, he _loves_ seeing that look. “She also demonstrates good social skills.”

Derek bites at his lip, deep in thought. He hands the papers back to Stiles. “How is her temper in your class, Mr. Stilinski?”

“Stiles,” Stiles says, and Derek’s eyebrows crease down. He leans closer.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my first name,” Stiles answers. Derek looks like he’s judging him (and he’s not the first parent to be confused about his name), but Stiles stares him down.

Eventually, Derek huffs out a laugh his palms going up in the air. “What?” Stiles can’t help but ask.

“Nothing,” Derek says, flicking a large hand to the side. “You’re just perfect for teaching kindergarteners, is all.”

Stiles feels heat spreading to his cheeks. “Well.”

“It was meant as a good thing,” Derek insists, leaning in just a bit. Stiles swallows, and tries not to stare into the deep green pools of his eyes so he won’t get lost. “Stiles, then. Call me Derek.”

“Fine with me, Derek.” Stiles folds his hands together on his desk. “Lea is a very well tempered child. She isn’t _shy,_ because she talks quite a bit. I enjoy a bit of conversation in my class, so that’s no problem. But, well.”

“Yes?” Derek asks, eyes sharp.

“No! It’s nothing bad at all. Quite the contrary,” Stiles says hurriedly. This is what he hates about conferences; parents waiting for the other shoe to drop. “She doesn’t allow herself to get riled up at all. It’s kind of a relief, honestly.”

“Really?” Derek’s eyebrows looks like they’re about to disappear off of his forehead.

“ _Really,”_ Stiles emphasizes. “She’s a sweet kid, and she’s extremely quiet and polite during exercises.”

“Well we _have_ taught her manners,” Derek says, sitting back again. He looks pleased, but there looks like there’s something under the surface that is unsettling him. Stiles waits, to see if there’s anything else he wants to know, because he’s said his share, and usually parents that show up late are looking forward to leaving. Eventually, to Stiles’s surprise, Derek says, “She’s much different at home, sounds like.”

“Is she a _menace_ at home?” Stiles asks, highly doubting that, especially with how sweet Lea is all of the time. Derek scowls at him before schooling his expression back to normal.

“Of course not. She’s just very excitable at home, is all.”

And Stiles smiles, because for someone thrust into parenthood so suddenly, he can see the effort Derek is putting into understanding his child. He hasn’t seen half of the parents today looking as interested in their children as Derek is, and it makes him ten times more attractive to Stiles.

“No kid acts the same at home and in a public environment. There’s nothing wrong with that. Kids get stressed as much as we do, and sometimes need to let off steam.” Stiles fixes his bowtie, and pulls at it.

“I understand that,” Derek says. He doesn’t look like he’s about to leave, and there’s a stagnant pause where they just look at each other.

“Well, then, Derek,” Stiles says, eyes flickering around Derek’s face. He licks at his dry lips, and Derek follows it with his gaze.  “If that’s all you need, that’s all I had to say.”

Derek nods, slowly. He stands up and picks up his jacket, shouldering it on. “Thank you for your time, mister Stilinski. Lea talks a good amount about you. I can see why, now.”

Stiles is a little stunned at that, but his stomach twists and he smiles. “I’m glad to hear that. I love having your daughter in my class. It was very nice meeting you, and contact me if you ever have any issues.” Derek shakes his hand, lingering, to where Stiles’s palm tingles when he lets go.

He can’t help but stay frozen in his seat as Derek saunters out. He can’t thinking of the fact that he’s staring at his ass, because he teaches children here, but that’s exactly what he’s doing, and he doesn’t have enough willpower to look away as Derek gently closes the door behind him.

“Good God,” he breathes, frantically taking his tie off and slumping over in his chair. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this will tentatively have more than 3 parts in it, because I promised a good friend  
> and it's awesome to hear feedback, and if i should bother continuing it so do the comment thing and i'll probably yell words of love at you
> 
> Ahhh and I think the title is cute cause I can call it the "L.O.V.E" series cause I'm a sap so eee


End file.
